


How the Avengers Learned Clint was Deaf

by 1creativeusernameplease



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Clint Barton Friendship, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton & Steve Rogers Friendship, Clint Barton & Thor Friendship, Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship, Deaf Clint Barton, Insecure Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 10:05:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19017703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1creativeusernameplease/pseuds/1creativeusernameplease
Summary: Exactly what the title says. How each avenger found out Hawkeye was deaf.





	How the Avengers Learned Clint was Deaf

  1. Natasha



 

The Black Widow sat in the waiting room of the hospital with her legs crossed and eyes staring straight ahead. If a person were to pass her they could have mistaken her for a statue. She didn’t even appear to be breathing. If one watched her long enough, though, one could detect the slightest movement when her striking green eyes would dart to the clock on the wall and then back to whatever horizon they had been fixed on before. 

Natasha was, in fact, replaying what had happened to her partner two hours ago. There had been a bomb. The child had been too close so, of course, Clint was there too. As the timer ticked to zero he had wrapped his body around the boy, letting the force of the blast hit his back. She had run to him when the dust had settled. There were a few small pieces of shrapnel in his back but that wasn’t what had worried her. It was the blood running from his ears. 

 

The doctor walked in and the look on her face did not inspire hope. Natasha took a deep breath and rose stiffly. The doctor shuffled her feet nervously under the intensity of Natasha’s gaze but reported her partner’s status confidently. 

 

“He’s asleep,” she began. “His lacerations are bandaged, might not even scar that bad.”

 

“His ears?” Natasha was not a woman of many words when she was stressed. The doctor hesitated and Natasha’s fears worsened but her face remained expressionless. 

 

“He’s lost 80 percent hearing in his left ear and 70 percent in his right.” She looked sadly at her. “He’ll be able to wear hearing aids but won’t be able to hear without them.” She flipped through her papers on her clipboard and scribbled something and handed it to her. “There are a few specialists I can recommend.”

 

Natasha took the paper silently and looked at it, but her mind was a million miles away. Her body worked on autopilot as it thanked the doctor and moved back to her chair. 

 

This was fine. This wouldn’t change anything. Clint could still fire a weapon. It’s not like they amputated his arms. SHIELD would make him some small, innocuous hearing aids and they’d be fine. 

 

She looked down at the paper in her hand. 

 

They would be fine. 

 

\-------------   ---------------  ------------------   ------------------ --------------------   --------------------

 

Clint woke up in his hospital bed. He couldn’t hear the usual beeps from assorted monitors so he must not have been hurt that bad. His head felt like it was splitting open but that was nothing new. His back hurt a little, too. He blinked a couple of times to clear the sleepy blur and saw Natasha in the bedside chair reading a book. 

 

“Natasha?” Something was wrong with his voice. Why did it sound so . . . cloudy?

 

Natasha saw the confusion on his face and closed her book. She showed him the cover. 

‘Learn American Sign Language: For Beginners.’ 

 

Fuck. 

 

She leaned forward and grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. The message was clear. They would get through this. 

 

He was glad she didn’t try and speak. 

  
  


2) Steve

 

Steve opened his book to where he left off last time. He found reading was the best way to relax nowadays as well as learn a thing or two. 

 

He was still getting used to living in Avengers Tower. JARVIS had startled him at first but now he welcomed his help. He liked getting caught up on politics and pop culture. He was still a little embarrassed to be asking questions like who Ross and Rachel were and why people were so invested in their relationship. Thor was never any help with a history lesson, which was to be expected. Bruce had a very narrow realm of knowledge so he could tell him bits and pieces of history and politics but couldn’t tell him about Harry Potter. Tony and Natasha liked to tease him about his cluelessness. What did they expect? It’s not like he could catch up on 70 years worth of world knowledge in a week. Not that Steve didn’t try. He bugged JARVIS with questions constantly. That was until Tony went through his search history for extra teasing material. 

 

The only one in the tower he could trust to give him information without harassment was Clint. 

 

After the battle of New York, Clint had struck him as kind of a goofball. He cracked jokes on a level with Stark and flirted with nearly everyone. Not to say he didn’t have his bad days. Being SHIELD’s top marksman didn’t allow Clint to have an easy breezy lifestyle. Some days his usual grin could not be found and a scowl and brooding silence would be his only interaction with the team. But whenever Steve came to him with a question, he would always answer. He seemed to be knowledgable in nearly every topic, whether it be Chinese politics, NASA projects, or Disney movies, the Hawk seemed to know it all. 

 

Steve felt he was getting to know Clint more than the others, but couldn’t shake the feeling that the sniper was hiding something. Steve assumed he was. He was a spy after all. But for all the information he gave Steve, very little seemed to be about himself. 

 

The Captain squinted at a phrase in his book. 

 

“He was the Scooby to his Shaggy?” he muttered out loud. What the hell did that mean? He exhaled through his nose forcefully. He was never going to get all of this. 

 

“JARVIS, where’s Barton?” he called to his open apartment. 

 

“Agent Barton is in the kitchen of the communal floor,” the A.I. replied. 

 

“Thanks.” Steve closed his book and headed to the kitchen. He hoped Barton knew what his book was talking about. 

 

He saw Clint making a sandwich when the elevator doors dinged open. Clint must have been really engrossed in his sandwich preparation because he didn’t even turn around. 

 

“Hey, Clint,” Steve called as he walked over to the kitchen island, flipping to the page in his book so he could show him the phrase.  When he looked back up Clint was placing the lettuce on his sandwich but made no indication of acknowledgment. 

 

“Barton?” The Captain was nearly five feet from the archer when the assassin suddenly tensed and spun around faster than the blink of an eye. He immediately relaxed when he saw Steve. 

 

“Oh, hey Cap,” he muttered. “Didn’t see you.” 

 

Steve’s brows furrowed. “Right.” 

 

Clint grabbed his plate and sat down on one of the bar stools surrounding the island. “Wasn’t expecting anybody to be down here this late,” he said in an almost bitter tone. 

 

Steve glanced at his watch. It was almost 2:30 in the morning. He hadn’t even realized. He watched his teammate take a huge bite of his sandwich. 

 

“So what’s up?” Clint mumbled through his midnight snack. 

 

“I was wondering if you could tell me what this phrase means.” He pointed at the passage in his book as he sat down across from him. Clint glanced between the sentence and his face a couple of times. 

 

“That’s a reference to Scooby Doo,” he finally said. “Have you had time to catch up on any T.V. yet?”

 

Steve shook his head. “So it’s not some weird slang?” he asked. 

 

Clint’s eyes kept darting away from his own. “No. Scooby and Shaggy are characters in a kids cartoon. They solve crimes with their friends. Scooby is a talking dog.”

 

Steve groaned and buried his face in his hands. More things to catch up on. It seemed he already had hundreds. “A talking dog?” he mumbled to himself. He dropped his hands to look back at Clint to thank him but the Hawk looked a little frustrated. 

 

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Clint mumbled and took another huge bite of his sandwich.

 

Steve’s eyes narrowed. Something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t he looking him in the eyes and why… oh. Of course, why hadn’t he seen it before?

 

Steve put his hands together, knuckles touching and rolled them forward palms facing up. Then he took his right index finger and dragged it from his left wrist to his shoulder. 

 

_ How long? _

 

There was a momentary flash of panic on Clint’s face before his bearing kicked in and his expression went blank. Steve raised his eyebrows in question. Clint held his gaze for what seemed like hours until finally, his head ducked to his chest and his shoulders slumped. Steve had never seen him look so defeated. 

 

The archer took a deep breath. When he raised his head again. His eyes were guarded, untrusting. “Eight years.” 

 

Steve nodded. 

 

“Do you know a lot of sign?” Clint asked, a little hopefully.

 

Steve shrugged his shoulders and made a gesture like he was flipping a coin.  _ A little.  _ He had learned from one of his neighbors, an elderly woman whom no one visited. Steve had felt sorry for her then. Now he was grateful to have learned a few words.

 

Clint ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded. He looked pained and Steve could imagine how he was mentally warring with himself. “How’d you know?”

 

Steve smiled sadly and signed slowly, trying to remember.  _ I knew a lot of proud soldiers. Like you. You act the same.  _

 

Clint gave a small huff of amusement.

 

_ How did it happen? _

 

The side of Clint’s mouth turned up. He put two fists in front of his chest and then pulled his arms out like a referee signaling a touchdown. “Big boom.”

 

Steve nodded. That’s how many of his fellow soldiers suffered hearing loss. 

 

Clint was looking up at the ceiling. Steve waited. When Clint finally looked back at him his eyes were a little wet but more determined than Steve had ever seen them. 

 

“Don’t tell anyone.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Please. I can get by with my hearing aids. I just wasn’t expecting you to be here or else - dammit-” his head dropped again. “ - Natasha already knows but the others - just please don’t tell anyone. I-”

 

Steve waved his hand to cut him off. He put his index finger to his lips then laid his hand flat on top of his other fist.   _ I promise.  _

 

He knew Clint was thinking that he now thought less of him, but he had never respected the archer more. 

 

\---------------   -----------------  ----------------- ----------------   -----------------------

 

“How do you sign ‘I’m tired?’” Steve asked. Clint snorted in amusement. He pressed his fingertips into his chest and then slumped his hands downward, exaggerating his facial expression. Steve grinned and then copied him. 

 

“Good,” Clint approved. “Just make sure your fingers don’t move down your chest. Just move the wrist. 

 

They were in Steve’s apartment, sitting around his kitchen table and snacking on goldfish which Steve had just discovered. After he had found out about Clint’s hearing loss, Steve had wanted to brush up on his knowledge of ASL. Clint had obliged. He had started to relax after the first few lessons. Now he looked forward to them. It was mostly Steve just asking random words he didn’t know and Clint supplying them. 

 

“What about ‘afraid?’” Steve wondered. 

 

Clint splayed his fingers and brought his hands over his chest, contorting his face into a concerned one. Steve nodded in understanding. 

 

_ What are you afraid of?  _ Steve signed. 

 

Clint shrugged and spoke as he signed for Steve’s benefit. “I don’t know, geese? Food poisoning? Natasha when you wake her up from a nap.”

 

Steve shook his head.  _ What are you afraid of with the team? Have you told them yet? _

 

Clint’s relaxed demeanor shut down quicker than a blink of an eye. His shoulders tensed, his eyes grew suspicious, and his normally bouncing knee stilled instantly. No, of course he hadn’t. He’d keep this secret until he couldn’t anymore. Who knows? Maybe he could spend the rest of his life without another living soul finding out about his impairment. 

 

Steve leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows. He waited. 

 

Clint finally sighed and took out his left hearing aid. It was small, much smaller than what the general public got, and flesh-colored. No one saw it unless they were looking for it. He showed it to Steve.

 

“I have lived with this thing for eight years. I know its limits. I know my limits. I have worked  _ so hard _ to get where I am today. Look at me,” Clint insisted earnestly his voice growing quieter but with no less intensity. “I am just a regular guy on a team with a genius, a super soldier, a hulk, and a god. A literal god. And I’m just a guy that can hit stuff with an arrow. A weapon from the fucking Paleolithic era. I can’t allow anything, especially  _ this, _ to get in the way of doing my job.” He shoved his hearing aid back in his ear. “If the others find out and they decide I’m not worth the liability risk, then I can’t do my job the best that I can.”

 

“You don’t know that they’ll kick you out,” Steve protested.

 

“I don’t know that they won’t!” Clint took a deep breath. “Look, not everyone is as understanding as you. A couple of former SHIELD agents threatened to kill me if my deafness cost a successful mission.”

 

Steve cocked his head. “Former?”

 

“Coulson always had my back.” He smiled sadly. “Then Nat got to ‘em.”

 

Steve took that as a point to his side. “See! Nat didn’t think less of you.”

 

Clint shook his head. “I can’t risk-”

 

“Clint,” Steve insisted. He didn’t understand. “Even if there’s a problem, you’d have Natasha… and you’d have me. We wouldn’t let you get thrown out.”

 

Clint scowled. He hated charity. He didn’t understand why people always wanted to make  _ his  _ problems theirs. 

 

“You promised, okay?” Clint’s eyes begged of him. “Please, just … drop it. I’ll - I’ll tell them. Eventually.”

 

Steve still looked like he wanted to argue but he relented. They sat in silence for a moment, Clint pushing a goldfish cracker around the table aimlessly. 

 

“How do you say ‘stubborn jackass archer?’” Steve asked.

 

Clint threw a goldfish at him.

 

3) Thor

 

The Prince of Asgard walked down the long hallway of the palace’s west wing. It was late, the sky turning a deep purple, but Thor had something to attend to before he retired for the evening. 

 

It had been only a few months since the battle of New York and he knew Midgard was still recovering from his brother’s attack. 

 

He nodded at the palace guards as he passed them and made his way down the staircase leading to the prisons. 

 

He would never understand his brother’s motives, but the least he could do was try and help him. He came to a stop by his brother’s cell. The trickster god was reading crosslegged in the far corner.

 

“Come to visit again, brother?” Loki jeered without looking up from his book.

 

“I simply came to see that they were treating you well.” Thor had never wanted this rivalry between them. He did truly want his brother to be happy, but he didn’t yet know how to help him. 

 

Loki snapped his book shut and pierced him with a glare. “Treating me well,” he muttered bitterly. He looked about his cell, with his bed and his books. There was no question they had both seen worse conditions over their lifetimes, but he would never be content in his cell.

 

Loki stood gracefully and glided to his bookshelf. “I could use some company.” He shrugged. “I’d even take Hogun at this point.”

 

Thor rolled his eyes and sighed. “Loki, you’re in here for a reason. The damage caused to Midgard was -”

 

“Ah, yes, of course. I had forgotten this was to be a punishment for my crimes.” He replaced his book on the shelf but his fingers remained on the spine thoughtfully. He acted as if he were scanning titles for a new book but Thor knew he wasn’t reading a letter. “If you come by one of these days and I have died of boredom I hope you’ll mourn my passing with a sufficient amount of guilt.”

 

“Brother I am trying to help you!” Thor growled exasperatedly. 

 

“I seem to recall it was you who brought me before the All-Father for my sentence.” Loki sneered at the mention of Odin and finally turned to his brother. “How is  _ this  _ helping me?”

 

“You did something wrong!” Thor’s voice got a little louder. “You must face the consequences of your actions.”

 

“I did something wrong?”

 

“You invaded a planet!”

 

“Fine!” Loki conceded. “But let me ask you this. Why am I the only one being punished?”

 

Thor scowled in confusion. Loki grinned and took a step forward. 

 

“What? You’ve never done wrong in your life, brother? How many planets have you invaded? How many people have you killed?”

 

“Loki-”

 

“You and your Avengers. You think you’re above it all. Do you know what they called your friend, Stark? The Merchant of Death. Is that a particularly noble title, brother?”

 

Thor didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t known. What had Stark done to deserve this name? 

 

“And the Captain, how many war crimes did he commit before being frozen for seventy years. How many sins do you think were forgotten in that time. And, of course, there’s the beast. He loses control, but he can’t be held accountable, can he? It’s never his fault.”

 

Thor winced at the memory of his skirmish with the hulk. Loki was getting closer and closer to the end of his cell. 

 

“And Romanoff, need I say more. Anyone can take one look at her and know she’s done some gruesome things in her past. And Barton, well you know he and I spent some time together and he didn’t seem to mind what he was doing in the slightest, almost like he was used to being someone’s pet assassin.”

 

“He was under  _ your  _ control, he had no choice,” Thor argued. 

 

“I might have been in control of his actions but I saw his mind.” Loki was dangerously close to the force fields of his cell, the magical boundary buzzing in a warning. “That man has done terrible, disturbing things and for what? A personal vendetta? No!” Loki spat. “He does it for pay, for his  _ job _ .” He waited until the weight of his words had hit their mark before continuing. “You should have seen it, brother.  Being inside his head was terrifying. All those memories, all that suffering, all those insecurities.” Loki adopted a slightly higher pitch. “What if I let them down? What if I miss the target? What if my deafness affects the mission?”

 

Thor’s eyebrow raised involuntarily. 

 

The god of mischief smirked cruelly. “Ah, didn’t know that one did you? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to find that you know of his weakness next time you see him.”

 

“Enough,” said Thor softly. He didn’t want to hear any more of this. He had visited Loki. It was done. He took a step back and a deep breath. Loki’s words would not affect him. “Sleep well, little brother.”

 

Loki’s gaze burned into his back as he made his way back to the entrance. As he walked, Thor pondered if what Loki said was true. Was Stark a Merchant of Death? Was Barton actually deaf?

 

Thor shook his head. It didn’t matter. He had fought with them all. He trusted them all. And if Clint really was deaf, and wished his condition to be a secret, then Thor vowed never to speak of it. 

 

\------------   -----------------  ----------------- ---------------  -------------- ---------------------

 

“No,” Tony gasped from laughter. “I wish I could have seen the look on Fury’s face!”

 

“I told him not to go in there,” Clint said, shrugging as he remembered the day fondly. 

 

Tony rolled off the couch in a fit of giggles and it occurred to Clint that he may have had too much to drink. It was just Tony and Thor tonight, having a few drinks around Tony’s enormous entertainment center in Avengers Tower. Thor had come by for a short visit and had wanted to catch up before he went off world again. Clint thought it was nice, even if he did have to share slightly embarrassing stories. 

 

“And you were completely naked?” Tony asked when he had regained his breath. 

 

“Yeah.” Clint grinned and took another swig of his beer. And Tony burst into another fit of giggles. He curled up in a ball on the floor. Clint subtly moved Tony’s tumbler of scotch to the other side of the coffee table while he was distracted. Then Tony said something he couldn’t quite make out, with his face in the floorboards and his slurred speech. Tony raised his head and looked at him expectantly. 

 

Crap. 

 

What had he asked? He had no idea. He could bluff it. Was it worth the risk? He could’ve reasonably just not heard him. He looked to Thor to see if he had had any trouble understanding him. The god of thunder was peering at him curiously as if he was searching for something. Shit, this was taking too long. 

 

“Yes,” Thor sounded, his voice easily picked up by his hearing aids. “What  _ did  _ Natasha think of this stunt?” He looked at him encouragingly. 

 

Clint let out a small breath of relief. “She doesn’t actually know about that one.” 

 

“What?!” Tony squawked. “JARVIS call Natasha right now.”

 

Clint spluttered in protest and Thor laughed, his delight unrestrained as Tony staggered off to where ever he had left his cell phone. The archer didn’t miss the wink thrown his way by the Asgardian. 

 

4) Bruce

 

The building shook with the force of the blast and Bruce felt the tremors from all the way in the quinjet. He tensed and leaned forward, ears straining for distressed voices on the comms. The Avengers had decided that the Hulk would be on standby for this particular mission, and frankly, Bruce didn’t mind. His transformations were never a pleasurable experience. But they were almost preferable to this anxiety of listening and waiting as his team was put in increasingly dangerous situations.

 

Another blast shook the countryside and Bruce clenched his fists when he heard Natasha’s voice. 

 

“Clint!”

 

Bruce stood up and watched the small speaker as if staring at it would bring information faster. After ten solid seconds of silence, Bruce’s palms started to sweat.

 

“Romanoff, do you have eyes on Barton?” Steve’s voice remained authoritative but there was a hint of concern that lingered in the air. 

 

“I’m almost to him.”

 

“How’s Legolas lookin’?” Tony asked. 

 

“I haven’t gotten to him yet,” she snapped. Her tone made sure that Tony was silent after that. After a few more seconds, her voice could be heard again, softer this time, barely audible. “Come on,  дорогая . Wake up.”

 

“Ugh.” Clint groaned and Bruce let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. 

 

“Tony,” Natasha said, her voice going back to its usual stoicism. “He’s gonna need an extraction.”

 

“Like, a hospital type of extraction?”

 

“No, I don’t think-” her voice broke off as another explosion rang through the air followed by gunshots and repulsor blasts over the comms. 

 

“Do you guys need me to come down there?” asked Bruce. 

 

It took a few seconds to get a reply as all he heard were the distant shouts of Hydra agents.

 

“No,” replied Tony eventually. “The big guy can take it easy for now I’m headed your way with Barton. I’d get the first aid kit ready.”

 

“Urgh,” Clint uttered groggily like he wasn’t quite conscious yet. 

 

“Perhaps some aspirin,” Tony suggested.

 

Bruce hurried over to the first aid kit on the wall and began getting things ready. He told JARVIS to open the loading bay. He heard Tony before he saw him. 

 

“Incoming.” Iron Man appeared suddenly, hovering for a moment two feet above the ground before landing as gently as he could with Clint draped in his arms bridal style. His faceplate retracted as he set his teammate on the cot that Bruce had prepared. 

 

“I think it’s mainly just a concussion, but if it turns out he’s bleeding from five gunshot wounds feel free to take him to a hospital. We’ll find our way back home.”

 

A smaller explosion echoed from the Hydra base. Tony’s faceplate slid back to its protective position. “That’s my cue. Keep us updated.”

 

Clint groaned again as Tony blasted off back to the fight. The jet’s hatch closed automatically, leaving Bruce alone with the archer. 

 

“JARVIS, turn off the comms,” Bruce said. He could at least ensure a private examination. He knew Barton hated checkups and anything to do with the medical field in general. A little peace and quiet might help him relax a little.

 

“Of course, Dr. Banner.” The A.I.’s voice came from the cockpit’s speakers. “I will alert you in the event of an emergency.” 

 

Bruce turned to his teammate on the cot. He didn’t see any blood, so that was a start. 

 

“Hey, Clint,” Bruce said softly, as he watched his friend blink into consciousness. 

 

“What’s goin’ on?” he slurred, trying to take in his surroundings. 

 

Bruce clicked the penlight on and directed it in the other man’s eyes. “Tony pulled you out after an explosion.” Both pupils were at the same dilation, that was a good sign. Clint sat up unsteadily. “Anything feel broken?”

 

Clint shook his head. “Naw just . . .” he trailed off and held up his left hand. His pinky was red and swollen. The archer took his finger in the other hand and grimaced. 

 

“Wait-” Bruce started but Clint had already pulled and set it back into place.

 

“Dislocated,” he finished. Clint shrugged and curled his fingers into a fist a couple of times to make sure everything was still functional. Bruce wondered how many fingers he had dislocated over the years. 

 

After Bruce had collected himself, he resumed his examination. “Feeling dizzy, fatigued?” 

 

Clint snorted. “I’m always fatigued.” They all were. 

 

“Nauseous?” Bruce proceeded. Clint’s mouth turned into a lazy smile.

 

“Nope. In fact, do you happen to have any pizza on this jet cause I’m actually feeling a little peckish.”

 

“Sorry. Fresh out.” He took the otoscope out of the first aid kit. “I don’t know how close you were to the blast. Are you hearing everything okay?”

 

Clint’s smile became strained. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

 

Bruce narrowed his eyes in suspicision. He moved forward slightly and Clint sprang from the cot. “Hey man, you sure  _ your  _ hearing’s okay? I said I’m fine!”

 

Bruce cocked his head innocently. “Then you won’t mind if I check -”

 

A thunderous boom shook the quinjet. Clint looked relieved. “I should get back to the fight. Thanks for your help, Bruce. I’ll let you know-”

 

“Clint Barton, if you don’t want to see me turn green, you will sit back down and let me shove this in your ears.” Bruce gestured with the otoscope threateningly. 

 

Clint's eyes flashed back and forth between the tool in his hand and Bruce’s face, weighing his options. He could tell he was wondering if he was bluffing about the other guy. Hawkeye had never had any problems with the Hulk but it was never wise to risk it. 

 

“Clint,” Bruce tried again, gentler this time. “What’s going on?”

 

The archer’s fingers fidgeted nervously. His trained eyes darted about the interior of the quinjet. “Look-” He surged forward and stopped right in front of the doctor. 

 

“Are the comms muted?” he asked in a whisper. 

 

“Yes,” Bruce answered kindly, trying not to startle him. 

 

His grey eyes bore into his own like he was searching for something. Bruce waited patiently for him to speak. Clint tore his eyes away and ducked his head into his shoulder. 

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered. He looked back into his eyes. Bruce had never seen the man in so much discomfort. 

 

The archer opened his mouth and spoke very slowly in a low whisper. “I’m not completely…” he cleared his throat. “I’m deaf.”

 

Bruce blinked. He was not expecting that. 

 

“I’m 80% deaf.” Clint’s face broke into a crazed sort of grin. “I’m fuckin’ deaf, man. I can’t hear shit.” His grin turned into a grimace. “So you don’t need to check my ears ‘cause they’re already ruined.”

 

Bruce stared at him in astonishment. The other man squirmed under his gaze. “Clint, how-”

 

“I make it work okay?” Clint raised his voice defensively. “You’d have never known, right? I can still-”

 

“Clint!” Bruce nearly shouted, fully aware that the frustration he was feeling wasn’t anger at his impairment but instead the fact that he hid it from him. “I was going to ask how come you didn’t tell us? We could have helped.”

 

Clint scoffed. “You can’t help. It just is. I just have to deal with it.”

 

“We could have made it easier.”

 

Clint just shook his head. “Just promise you won’t tell anyone.” Bruce raised his arms in confusion. “Please. Just- you wanna help? That’s how. Okay?”

 

The doctor searched his face for a long time. He didn’t understand. Why didn’t he want the team to help him? If someone had offered to help him with the Hulk he would have been ecstatic. He finally sighed. “Fine.”

 

Just then JARVIS spoke up. “Sorry for the interruption but Mr. Stark is threatening disfigurement and death if you don’t give an update on Agent Barton’s condition. He has been asking for the past three minutes.”

 

“Put him through.” Bruce eyed Clint suspiciously. If he had been oblivious to his deafness, who knows what else the archer could he be hiding. Bruce hated being lied to. He had half a mind to blurt Clint’s secret out to the rest of the team right then and there. 

 

“Helllloooooo!” Tony’s voice rang over the speakers. “Anybody home?”

 

“Yeah, I’m here.”

 

“Don’t do that, again. I’ve been worried sick. We're finishing up here. I’m assuming Clint’s not dead.”

 

Bruce locked eyes with the archer. Clint turned on his puppy-dog eyes. He sighed heavily. “Yeah, he’s fine.”

 

\---------------   -----------------------   ------------------ ------------------------  -----------------------   
  


Bruce gave a friendly smile to the nurse behind the counter. “Hi, I’m here to see Clint Barton. We’re his…”

 

“Family,” Natasha finished without skipping a beat. 

 

The nurse lead them to a hospital room. It was just the two of them visiting. Thor was off-world and Steve and Tony were at a press conference. Natasha thanked the nurse and she closed the door behind her. Nat took her usual seat on Clint’s right. Bruce inwardly winced at the fact that she even had a normal spot next to Clint’s hospital bed, but out of the six of them, he was usually the most fragile. Bruce nonchalantly picked up the clipboard at the foot of the bed. He scanned for the right form, pulled it out and crumpled it up into a ball. He stuffed it into his pocket. 

 

Natasha raised her eyebrows in question. 

 

He tapped his ears. Understanding read on her face and she nodded her gratitude. 

 

_ Just in case,  _ Bruce thought. He would keep his word and hide Clint’s secret for him. If that’s what would help him. 

  
  


5) Tony 

 

Iron Man flew through the trees. He had just finished taking down the AIM garrison and was taking down stragglers as he headed to his rendezvous point with Hawkeye.

 

“Hey, where are you at?” Tony could never find Clint if he didn’t want to be found. He hovered forty feet in the air and turned in a circle. 

 

“Coming down.” Tony’s HUD picked up movement in the tree line as Hawkeye rappelled down a giant oak tree into the snow below. 

 

“Damn you’re good,” Tony muttered. 

 

A warning blinked on his display. “Sir,” JARVIS warned. “You have entered the range of a specialized EM-” his voice cut out and Tony cursed as his suit froze completely. 

 

His repulsors died and all he could do was watch the earth as it rose to meet him. His metal casing did very little to lessen the blow. The wind was knocked out of him and for a few terrible seconds, he couldn’t breathe. It was agonizing, but he forced himself not to panic. Just breathe. He drew in a sharp breath. Definitely some cracked ribs, if not broken ones. He exhaled slowly and tried to assess his situation. The EMP must have been specialized for his suit because he had built in safeguards. He would have to see to that later, but that was not an immediate concern. JARVIS  would reboot but it might take a few minutes. He was lying face down in the snow so he couldn’t see anything out of his helmet. Nor could he seem to move. Well, this was not ideal. He just had to get used to being immobilized. Tony could do that. And breathe more slowly. That was just two things. 

 

Suddenly, he felt himself being moved. His iron man suit slowly turned over so he was lying on his back. “Tony?” Clint’s face entered his limited line of sight. 

 

“Clint! Thank God!” Tony grinned. Clint would get him out. “Clint, there’s a release lever on my right thigh. It’s pretty small but I’m sure you of all people will see it.”

 

Clint’s face loomed over his own in concern. He raised his hand and tapped on the faceplate tentatively. “Tony?”

 

“Barton, what the fuck?” Tony said. “Pull the release lever and get me out!”

 

Clint looked distraught. “I don’t know if you’re awake in there but we gotta go. I don’t know if that EMP was an automatic trigger or if someone close by initiated it.”

 

Could he not hear him? He knew the speakers wouldn’t be working but his voice would still be able to carry through the layers of his suit. “BARTON, PULL THE LEVER ON MY LEG!” There was no hint of acknowledgment on the archer’s face. He seemed to be deliberating something in his head. He finally seemed to come to a conclusion because a few moments later, he disappeared from his sight again. Tony tried not to panic. He wouldn’t leave him, would he? He broke out in a cold sweat at the thought. 

Clint reappeared and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. “Tony?” He asked again. 

 

“What the hell are you waiting for? Pull the lever on my leg!” Tony shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. He had decided two minutes ago that he did not like the feeling of being paralyzed and he was done with the whole experience. Clint winced but found the lever quickly. With a hiss, Tony’s suit folded back in on itself. The billionaire sat up as soon as he was free and gasped like a drowning man. 

 

“Jesus, Legolas,” Tony gulped, “could you be a little quicker next time? I mean was it really that hard to find a lever. And don’t you dare tap on my face ever again. I felt like a fucking goldfish. And why would you ever - are you wearing hearing aids?” Tony’s rambling was cut short by the observation. Clint reddening face tried to duck away but it was no use. Tony could clearly see the bright purple, over the ear hearing aids on both the archer’s ears. 

 

Clint shrugged. “We need to get out of here.”

 

Tony was still staring at him open-mouthed. How had he never noticed before? Maybe it was recent? “We’re not going anywhere until JARVIS reboots and more importantly - you have hearing aids? Since when?”

 

Clint looked to the sky and leaned back against a tree. “I don’t even know why I try anymore. I think you’re the last person to know anyway,” he mumbled mostly to himself.

 

“The EMP took out my other ones.” Clint gestured defeatedly to his battery-powered hearing aids. 

 

“Clint, when the fu-”

 

“A bomb went off about nine years ago and I lost 80% hearing.” He looked defiantly at him, as if waiting for Tony to start taunting him. He did some quick calculations in his head. According to Clint, Tony was the last person to find out he was deaf. That meant that Clint had been purposefully keeping this a secret from people and  _ that  _ meant he had been afraid to tell them. 

 

The archer was still waiting for his reaction. Tony could see all of his defensive walls were up. Clint was obviously afraid of an unfriendly reaction. Well of course he was. It couldn’t have been easy doing the things he did without being able to hear. Hell, Tony had enough of a difficult time as it was. But he could have told them! They would have all accepted him right away! It wasn’t like the Avengers were without their individual quirks. 

 

Tony shivered in the snow.  

 

“You have any other major secrets the team should know about?” Tony finally said, his kind brown eyes searching the archer’s suspicious ones. “You actually have superpowers? You collect beanie babies?”

 

Relief overcame Clint’s features. He smiled conspiratorially. “My collection is none of your business.” 

 

Tony smiled. There was the Barton he knew. “So?” Tony leaned in toward him unable to contain his curious nature. “How’d the others find out?”

 

The SHIELD agent rolled his eyes. “Stupidly. You know I’ve been a spy for fourteen years and I can’t keep a secret from four people for eleven months. It’s kind of pathetic.”

 

“Hey, I’m the genius here,” Tony joked. “I’d say you did okay.”

 

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupted. 

 

“Hey, buddy.” Tony looked back at his suit to see it powering up. “You’ll never guess what I just learned. Clint uses hearing aids”

 

“Tony!”

 

“What? It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” Tony protested. Clint still scanned their surroundings as if someone was going to jump out and belittle him for his deafness. 

 

“If you are referring to Agent Barton’s hearing impairment, I have known from before our first meeting,” JARVIS said with a hint of superiority in his voice. Clint paled instantly. 

 

The archer licked his lips. “You didn’t - I mean, no one else knows right?”

 

“Everything is completely confidential,” the A.I. replied. Clint sighed and let his head drop to his chest. 

 

“Stark, don’t you teach your robots to be more respectful to people’s privacy?”

 

Tony snorted. “If I did I’d probably be dead by now.” He shivered again. “Is this thing ready to go? I’m freezing.”

 

“Ready when you are, sir.”

 

\--------------------    ------------------ -----------------   ----------------------------- ----------------------

 

Clint entered his Avengers tower apartment and flicked on the lights. He was ready to collapse, but he was also really hungry. He didn’t know what it was, but an entire day of SHIELD briefings always took way more energy than a day in his sniper's nest. He dropped his keys on the counter and opened his fridge. Nothing. He could go raid the communal floor kitchen again. Or he could stay in his room and eat dry frosted flakes. His stomach growled. Eh. Frosted flakes never hurt anybody. He turned to his pantry but something on the counter caught his eye. 

 

A small silver box the size of a mint tin and a note lay on the polished marble. He picked up the note. 

 

_ Hope these are to your liking. _

_ -Tony _

 

Clint opened the box and smiled. He didn’t know why he had tried to hide it in the first place. He examined the new hearing aids and tried them on. 

 

“JARVIS where is Tony now.” Clint tested his voice to see how the sound carried. He snapped his fingers. 

 

“Right outside your door listening for, quote, ‘shouts of appreciative glee,’” he answered dutifully. 

 

“I told you not to say that!” Tony’s muffled shout sounded from outside the door. Wow. These things were good. 

 

Clint couldn’t help himself from smiling. 

 


End file.
